by Karen Ball
“And remember that the community won’t be much help this time.”
Oh joy. Another bit of encouragement from Little Mary Sunshine. “Why is that, Rafael?”
“Those who came forward to help the last three times paid a high price.”
Sheamus let out a heavy breath. “Their homes were vandalized. Graffiti drawn inside and out.”
“And they received phone calls, threatening them if they didn’t back off.” Fredrik’s tone showed just the faintest hint of anger.
Well. At least she could put one concern to rest. “You don’t have to worry about the cost.”
“Easy for you to say.”
Kyla studied Wayne, careful to keep her expression calm. She’d run into more than her share of naysayers on other projects, so this was nothing new. “You know, my father started Justice Construction. He’s the one who brought me into the business, who taught me how to run it. How to lead well.” She straightened, infusing her words with as much confidence as she could. “And something that he taught me early on was to set aside a certain percentage of company profits for the important jobs—the jobs God wanted done but circumstances or finances said it couldn’t happen.”
She nodded. “Jobs like this one. So when I say you don’t have to worry about the cost, I mean it. JuCo will provide the crew and supplies.”
Astonishment traveled the faces watching her. And hope.
They all started speaking at once.
“That’s too generous!”
“God will bless you, young lady.”
“That’s far more than we ever could have hoped.”
“Maybe this will work after all.”
Everyone was talking, except Hilda. She just sat there, tears coursing down her sweet face.
Finally, Fredrik got them settled down. “So, it looks as though we’re back in business. Kyla, when can you have everything ready to go?”
Normally she’d need ample time to get a crew together, but time was short. Ridiculously so. It’d be a stretch, but … “Give me two days.”
“Fine. Two days it is. We’ll all gather here, all of us and you and your crew, for the blessing ceremony.”
“Blessing ceremony?”
Hilda patted Doggy Dog. “To dedicate the project—”
“And its completion, no matter how unlikely.”
She ignored Sheamus’s sour comment. “—to God and His protection. We’ll pray, you’ll dig a shovelful of dirt for a memory book photo, and then you can start.”
“Sure, okay.” Kyla tipped her head. “But you know, it’s not really a groundbreaking. We’re not going to put up a new building.”
Hilda nodded. “I know. But we’ve taken the same picture the other three times, so why break with tradition now?”
Because tradition has been that the project fails?
Kyla didn’t say it out loud. She nodded and said that would be fine. Sometimes it just wasn’t helpful to point out the obvious.
TWENTY-EIGHT
“When you invite trouble, it’s usually quick to accept.”
QUOTED IN P.S., I LOVE YOU
“When arguing with fools, don’t answer their foolish arguments, or you will become as foolish as they are.”
PROVERBS 26:4
Most holy God, we beseech Thee, walk among us today in power and protection …”
Warriors.
That’s what Kyla was listening to, as sure as if they’d come decked out in shields and swords. But these people didn’t fight with weapons of steel and wood. They used words. Powerful, heartfelt words.
“… that all may know this, Thy house, stands by Thy almighty will.”
Prayers to a God far more powerful to them than the obstacles standing in their way. Prayers for His presence. His overshadowing.
His blessing.
“Work within us, gracious Father, that we might serve Thee with our talents and skills.”
The task was as large as ever. Kyla still didn’t know how they were going to rebuild the burned-out church into a youth center in a matter of weeks. Contrary to Hilda’s assertion, they weren’t the Extreme Makeover Home Edition crew. Nor did they have the show’s budget.
Which made it all the more odd that Kyla wasn’t worried. Because the prayers—and the pray-ers—had made her realize this wasn’t her task.
It was God’s.
“Lead us in going beyond our own strength so that we might rely on Thee.”
Good thing too. Because it was certain they wouldn’t get much help from the neighbors. The church folks were all here, of course, and her crew, hard hats in hand, ready to get started at the “Amen.” But despite church members putting up fliers about the dedication, even going to visit the homes of those they knew, only a handful from the neighborhood showed up. It would seem Rafael was right.
The Blood Brotherhood had everyone scared.
An elbow nudged her side, and Kyla turned to the man standing beside her, Grant Wilson, her first-line supervisor. “We’ve got an audience.”
“Let us see not only this task, but all involved with Thy eyes of love and compassion.”
She followed his gaze to a young black man standing on the fringes, watching, listening. She took in his attire—and ground her teeth.
Fine.
The Blood Brotherhood … 22s … whatever they called themselves, didn’t want the neighbors around, and yet they had the gall to be here? If she wasn’t afraid it would disrupt the ceremony, she’d march over there and tell that thug exactly what she thought of him. Since she couldn’t do that without drawing attention from the prayers, she’d have to settle for making her feelings clear in her gaze.
“And should any of us walk in ways contrary to Thy will, pull us back, holy God, but do so with love and compassion …”
While she wouldn’t want that old adage “if looks could kill” to come true, she wouldn’t mind if they managed to wound this hood and his buddies a bit.
“… for we are all Thy children, dearly loved by Thee and called to Thy service. All this we ask in Thy Son’s most precious name …”
The target of her attention looked up. His eyes collided with hers, and even from this distance she could see him start. Good! She narrowed her glare. Take tha— “Oomph!”
She glowered at Grant, who’d just jabbed her a good one in the side. “What?”
He jerked a nod toward the elders and hissed at her. “A-men.”
“Amen?”
“They said it twice now, boss. They’re waiting for you to take the shovel.”
Sure enough, Fredrik and the elders were standing there, watching her.
“Oh! I’m sorry. I …” She clamped her mouth shut. No way she was going to admit she wasn’t listening. Cheeks on fire, she hurried to take the shovel from Willard and dig it into the ground. But as she lifted the pile of dirt, she didn’t look at Hilda, who was taking pictures of the event. Instead, she glanced past the little woman to the cause of her humiliation.
And almost dropped the dirt.
“Smile, Miss Justice.”
Even as the camera snicked, she knew what crossed her face was more grimace than grin. But that was the best she could do.
Because the gang member was no longer alone. There, right in front of God and everyone, stood Rafael Murphy. Next to the enemy. And from the looks of the two of them, the conversation wasn’t only civil.
It was downright friendly.
“So, you gonna stick around all day?” Rafe kept his stance relaxed as he glanced at the tall young man beside him.
“Don’t know. Just figured I’d watch until I got bored.”
That wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon. Even Rafe was all but mesmerized as he watched Kyla and her crew go to work. He’d never seen such precision and energy before—at least, not outside of the military. “They’re pretty impressive.”
“They?” Tarik slanted him a bland look. “Or her?”
Sometimes that kid saw entirely too much. “I was surpri
sed to see you at the dedication ceremony.”
Tarik shrugged. “I wasn’t really at it.”
“Okay … I was surprised to see you around it.”
Another shrug. “I decided I should. Just in case.”
Made sense. If the Brotherhood showed up, Rafe and the others would need Tarik. Big time. Which, unless Rafe missed his guess—which didn’t happen often—was why Tarik was still here.
Just because the Brotherhood didn’t show up at the ceremony didn’t mean they weren’t coming.
“You know this is trouble.”
Rafe didn’t deny the boy’s quiet words. “Has it started yet?”
Tarik slid his hands into his pockets. “There’s a lot of trash talk going on, but nothing definite. Not yet.”
“Any chance of heading it off?”
“Your Marine buddies going to show up?”
Rafe’s lips twitched at the irony in the boy’s words. “No.”
“Then no. The Brotherhood can’t let this one go. If they do, it’s like saying they’re down with it. And that would mean there’s an option.”
“To joining the gang.”
Tarik’s nod was barely perceptible.
“So you’re the exception to the rule.”
The boy’s mouth compressed. “So far.”
Rafe wanted to throw an arm around Tarik’s shoulders, to tell him how proud of him he was, but pride wouldn’t allow such a gesture. Besides, it could very well bring Tarik even more attention from the Brotherhood.
Rafe glanced at the buildings around them. The gang members might not be visible, but he had no doubt they were around. Somewhere. Watching. And they wouldn’t take kindly to an outsider buddying up to one of their own. Doing so meant trouble.
For everyone.
He’d been doing it all day.
Every time Kyla glanced up from her work or from a discussion with her crew, she saw Rafael. And every time, regardless of his location or involvement, he’d been doing the same thing.
Watching her.
After a day of being scrutinized by those dark eyes, she was about to jump out of her skin! Finally, a few hours ago, a voice called to Rafael from across the street. A young man, probably no more than nineteen, waved him over.
She watched as Rafael laid down the tools he’d been using, then headed across the street, his movements graceful despite his cane and limp. And there he’d stayed, talking with the boy.
And watching her.
By the time the men finished up for the day she was so antsy she could happily spit nails.
“So you want me to pick ’em up tonight?”
She spun. “What?”
Grant eyed her. “The nails. The 316s. I told you we were gonna run short if we didn’t pick some up.”
“Oh. Right.” She swallowed back her embarrassment. Why did she let Rafael get to her this way? Grant must think she’d gone totally nuts. “I thought you left already.”
The frown deepened. “Told you I was gonna check in before I left.”
Okay. Nuts and stupid.
He held up a hand, forestalling any explanation. “You and those old folks best be gettin’ outta here.”
Kyla glanced back at the church elders. Steve and Von had left, but Willard, Wayne, and Sheamus awaited her. Along with, of course, the ever-present Hilda. “We’re just going to do a quick walk-through of the site, see what we got done today. Then we’ll leave.”
Grant’s features creased as he studied the skyline. “Yeah, well, you don’t wanna be out here after dark.” He hesitated. “Want me to wait?”
She waved him off. “No. Go home. We’ll be back at it early tomorrow morning, and you need your rest.”
He nodded. “Whatever you say.” He started to turn, but she couldn’t let him go. Not yet.
“Grant. I’m sorry I was so … distracted earlier.”
He pulled a piece of gum out of his pocket, unwrapping it and sticking it in his grinning mouth. “Yeah”—he looked across the street to where Rafael stood—“I noticed. And you’re not the only one.” He turned back to her. “Been noticing you both. All day.”
“I—” Well, really. What could she say? The man was spot-on.
“Boss, no worries. We been together too long for me to think anything but the best of you.” He unhooked his tool belt and draped it over one shoulder.
“Besides, I figure it’s about time. None o’ my business, but to my way of thinkin’, you been alone too long.” His firm gaze stopped the protest perched on her tongue. “You know it as well as I do. Your dad would’nta wanted you to be alone.”
With that, he made his way to his car, leaving Kyla to do the only thing she could think of in the face of such a comment.
Glare at Rafael Murphy.
“She’s watching you.”
Tarik’s words jerked Rafe’s attention toward the church. He was right. Kyla was watching him. For a moment pleasure flooded him, only to slam into a dam of reality when he saw the storm creasing her features.
She might be looking at him, but she wasn’t happy.
Not by a long shot.
“Guess you’d better go see what’s up with your lady.”
Rafe allowed himself a small smile. His lady. Would that it were true. “Guess I’d bett—” His words stilled when Tarik grabbed his arm. Rafe looked at his friend and found the tension in the boy’s fingers mirrored in the dark eyes beneath the ball cap.
Only one thing could get Tarik that upset that fast.
He spun, his gaze racing back to Kyla, his worst fears confirmed by Tarik’s dark tone.
“They’re here.”
TWENTY-NINE
“If the enemy leaves a door open, you must rush in.”
SUN Tzu
“Don’t be afraid of the enemy! Remember the Lord, who is great and glorious, and fight for your friends,
your families, and your homes!”
NEHEMIAH 4:14
They were surrounded.
Ten … no, twelve Blood Brotherhoods circled Kyla and the elders. She hadn’t even seen them move in. They just appeared, a terrifying barrier cutting Kyla and the elders off from the shelter of the church.
She scanned the faces staring at her—the wall of red and black clothing, bandannas, tattoos. Her heart pounded in her chest.
What are you afraid of? These are kids. No more than early twenties, Rafael said.
Maybe so, but there was nothing youthful about them.
Chests out, chins up, arms crossed. All of them, from what she could see of their eyes in the growing dusk, ice-cold.
For a heartbeat, no one spoke. Kyla’s hand inched toward her pocket, to her cell phone, but firm fingers closed over her arm.
Willard.
He gave one shake of his head and met her gaze with his own. Wait. The warning was as clear as if he’d spoken. Just … wait.
“Why you dissin’ King K like this?”
Kyla didn’t have time to figure out who spoke. Words spat from every direction.
“He said no center, foo.”
“Dat means no center.”
“You dumm too? ’Cause you know you deaf.”
“What this crew think they doin’? Think they can do this in a week if they pray?”
“Don’t matter. They usin’ wack goods. Stuff other people used and pitched.”
“Building’d fall down if a pigeon pooped on it.”
“Nah. That’s what’s holdin’ it together.”
The mockery crescendoed; the comments grew more violent. Vitiating. Behind her, Hilda gasped. Kyla turned and saw Sheamus’s and Wayne’s white faces. The anger burning in their aged eyes. Anger and something more …
Despair.
The ugliness rose on a swell of dark anger, washing over Kyla until she could bear it no more. She had to do something.
Be still.
It whispered through her—low, calm, but a command all the same.
Listen to them, Lord! They are mocking us. Mocking
You!
Be still …
She wanted to scream. To hit something. Didn’t God understand? People like this, they didn’t care. Didn’t respect you unless you made them.
Be—
No! Fury set her feet in motion. Willard grabbed her arm again, but she pulled away from him. “Those punks aren’t in control here.”
Willard’s eyes pierced her. “Neither are you.”
“No”—the words seeped through gritted teeth—“but I work for the One who is.” She held his gaze, and his hand fell away.
“If He’s calling you to this, then I won’t stand in your way.”
If He’s calling me …
Kyla jutted her chin and stepped forward, sensing more than seeing the elders fall in behind her. A line of warriors. “Be not afraid.” That’s what God said, right? Fine.
She’d show these thugs she wasn’t afraid.
“Where you two tinkleberries think you goin’?”
Rafe wasn’t surprised when three 22s blocked their way. He’d expected it sooner. King K always had lookouts. Big ones.
These three were no exception.
He stopped in front of the guy who’d challenged them. The kid’s stance—chin up, eyes at half-mast, arms crossed over his chest—that and the fact that he was the largest of the three marked him as the leader of this little outing.
Good. Saved Rafe time. He didn’t have to guess who to take out first.
He fell into his ready stance. Loose. Hands clasped together in front of him, atop his cane, like he was having a nice little talk with his grandmother. Deceptively relaxed. “Tinker Bells.”
The kid looked at him like he was nuts. “What?”
“Tinker Bells, genius, not tinkleberries. Tinker Bell was a fairy, which I assume is what you want to call us. Tinkleberries don’t exist. Get your insults straight.”
His adversary’s lips parted to show one gold tooth. “You talk tuff for a gimp.” His gaze dropped to Rafe’s cane.
“I have one good one.” He tapped his strong leg. “That’s all I need for someone like you.”